Again?
by talewind
Summary: Adam Porter got his foot stuck in a toilet. Stop laughing! Really, it's not funny, it's mortifying... Well, until a certain nurse calls him from the waiting room. Based on a scene from 7x04, "The Power of Three," and a Tumblr post. Oneshot, sadfic.


**tale's corner:** So, I saw this post on Tumblr (it's a scene from The Power of Three), and naturally had to ruin it for everyone. (The link to the post can be found in my profile.) I suggest taking a look at it before reading this.

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Adam half-wheeled, half-shuffled himself into the waiting room, his foot wedged deep in the toilet. For the fifth time. Sure, it was awkward to drag around like that. Yeah, he got weird looks. Okay, it would've been an uncomfortable position if he still had any feeling past his waist. But it would all be worth it.

It was Nurse Williams's shift.

The first time Adam had gotten his foot stuck in the toilet, it had been a joke with him and some blokes from school, after the seventh Harry Potter had come out. The others had all stood in the toilets, flushed, and fallen over looking like complete idiots and laughing madly. Then they had insisted he try, and for whatever reason, he'd agreed. His friends lifted him from the wheelchair, placed him in the toilet, held to his legs and sides to support him, and flushed. And he'd gotten stuck.

It was mortifying when they'd had to take him to the hospital. After all, what idiot gets their foot jammed in a toilet? Adam sat in the waiting room with all those other people, wishing he could melt into the floor.

"Adam Porter…? Oh, good lord."

Adam looked up toward the voice and felt like he'd been punched in the gut. In a good way. However that works.

The nurse ran a hand through his scruffy blond hair, his grey eyes darting to the ceiling in disbelief before coming to rest in Adam's. "…How on earth did you get your foot stuck in a toilet?"

Adam, who had thoroughly lost himself in the nurse's eyes, made a sort of a happy noise in the back of his throat.

The nurse sighed. "…Right. Well, I've seen weirder, I suppose. C'mon then, this way." He paused and gestured at the wheelchair and toilet. "D'you need help?"

It was a few seconds before Adam realized he'd been asked a question. He blinked, suddenly jolted from his trance. "Huh? Oh, um…sure, thanks."

He felt his face burn as the nurse placed his hands on the wheelchair's handles. He _never_ let _anybody_ touch those handles. As they moved down the hallway, Adam could feel his breath grow fast and shallow, his head feeling light.

"…ir? Sir, are you all right?"

Adam snapped back to reality again at the sound of the nurse's panicked voice. "Oh! Um, yes! Totally fine!" he answered, his voice strained and oddly high-pitched. He cleared his throat. "Er, that is, aside from the…" he gave the toilet a meaningful look.

The nurse frowned behind him. "Does it hurt?"

"Ah, no." Adam felt his heart rate returning to normal. "I haven't felt anything past my waist for six years. Car accident."

"Oh. That's… I'm sorry."

"Why should you be?" Adam shrugged. "It's not like there's anything you could've done." It almost seemed like the nurse was going to argue the point, but decided against it. Adam was surprised at how touched he felt by the nurse's sincerity. "…Well, you get to know my name. Do I get to know yours?"

The nurse snorted, but complied anyway."I'm Nurse Williams. Er, Rory, that is."

The rest of the hospital visit was a happy blur, weirdly enough. It had taken another two nurses and a plunger, but they had managed to extricate his foot from the toilet. Then Adam vaguely recalled being x-rayed before being wheeled back out of the hospital and taken home. As he fell into his bed that night, it finally struck him: _This is what love feels like._

Adam had to see him again. It was this inexplicable need clawing at his insides, and it festered for weeks. Finally, he steeled himself, wheeled to the bathroom adjacent to his apartment, stopped himself in front of the toilet, and jammed his foot inside.

That hospital visit, Adam noticed the ring on Rory's left hand.

He screamed and cried into his pillow the next three nights.

On the third toilet, a week after the second, Rory's wife had come to the hospital to visit. Adam saw how she trailed behind him with her long red hair bouncing along (although Rory actually trailed behind her more than the other way around), and how much they touched each other, and how much they looked at each other. And yet, Adam couldn't bring himself to hate her. She talked with him while Rory bustled about, really _with_ him, not as she were talking to a child like so many others did, but person to person. She was sarcastic and a little rude, but she was nice. And as much as it hurt to, Adam had to let himself let Rory love her.

On the fourth toilet, Adam had legitimately accidentally gotten himself stuck by slipping on his way out of the shower. Frustrated, he attempted to towel himself off and put on the clean clothes he'd brought into the bathroom with him. There was no way in hell he was going to the hospital starkers, Rory or no Rory. He had to tear up the side of the leg of his pants, to his dismay; he liked that pair of pants, and it was _December_. "Again?" Rory groaned when he saw, but was unable to keep himself from smiling. Adam smiled, too.

This was the fifth time now, Just as he was getting cozy in his usual spot in the waiting room, he heard the nurse call his name.

"Adam Porter?"

But it wasn't Rory.

"Where's Rory? Nurse Williams?" he asked the nurse, a girl in her thirties, trying not to sound rude.

This nurse shrugged, looking glum. "Nobody knows," she said. "He and his wife Amy have been gone for a month. Rory said they'd only be in New York for a week before coming back, but they haven't shown up, and nobody's been able to contact them, or…"

The nurse might have said more, but Adam didn't hear. He was preoccupied with the sensation of something breaking inside of him.

~_fin_~


End file.
